The Quest

I was thinking about starting a group on Facebook for Descendants of Dr. Berry Wilson Gideon. Then I thought, would it be easier to just create a website? Hmm. Lot of work. Then I thought... wish there was a way to simplify this, but the simpler you get the less information you have. Anyway.... all of that drove me to distraction and I started shopping/browsing for genealogy stuff. I thought it would be nice for me to display my tree somehow, so I started looking for family trees that are suitable for framing. They are very simplistic, and rightfully so since you have to fit it all on one page. But in the process I saw this amazing pictorial family tree. And thus the reason for the title of this post... So if you have come across a frame-able family tree that you particularly like, I'd like to know about it. I think the photographic version is a little much. I'd like something that's pretty and includes several generations. I guess I could just make my own, ...

After a conversation with someone yesterday, I began to reflect on how much I personally have changed since moving to the metroplex. The things that defined my life in Lubbock are no longer the norm. I'm not involved with Emmaus. I don't know any people in my demographic. I don't volunteer to work with children (for pay or otherwise). I never give spiritual talks or lead small groups or reunion groups. I rarely paint or sing or play the piano. I don't write feature articles. I don't make agape or go to the movies or take day trips to sled on sand dunes. I'm generally not the life of the party or the one doing the planning. So who am I now? Am I all about work? Well, not really. I still like to write (but don't do it often). I've added genealogy to my interests, but that's a fairly solitary endeavor. I hesitate to volunteer for things. I don't lead spiritual activities. I go straight home from work most days... Meg needs to be let out. Most of m...

When Ken died, I thought I'd shy away from my fascination with cemeteries and family history. In the moment, it seemed morbid. But I felt compelled to go visit Floyd's resting place (Ken's dad) yesterday during lunch. People may think I'm morbid for walking cemeteries in my spare moments, but Bear Creek Cemetery is one of the more peaceful places I know to go. All the people there are at peace... there's greenery and shade and flowers and reminders of lives lived well. I can't explain why I feel soothed there, but somehow I do. The questions and uncertainty of "real life" seem insignificant there, where lives are finished and strife is over. Sure, there's a melancholy there. But sometimes melancholy is just the balm I need to heal.